a day in the life of piano monkey

yawn. the first breath back in yyz was unfortunately, but comically of a big yawn, where you crack your chin, inhaling as much air as one could possibly do without dropping the jaw. eye popping? no. ear popping? yes. projected flight time of 8 something hours and somehow ( ! ) theyve shorten it to 7 hours. that's it. everything about the flight industry now is a total mystery. i understood before that one cannot ever make any sense of seat prices but duration of trips as well? at least it was mercifully short, without the ever-expanding man (though i may report that he was replaced by eternal crying toddler who shouldve been either boxed silly or flushed). huddle out of airport, grab the rocket (that's local lingo for toronto public transit for you, whoever needs it), notice that rocket prices of two dollars and seventy-five cents canadian looks like somewhat peanut-ish in comparison to the costs of transportation over there in uk, grab the go train (that would be the regional ...

all these ideas and words, a desperate attempt for the sake of expression, are represented by somewhat unreal world of world wide web. it exists in a sincere relativist/existentialist context, as i could read, write and others may read and write, talk, think, whatevers, all coded in somewhat complicated maze of 0s and 1s. i connect to this tabula rasa, 'post-create,' which awaits me with infinite patience and calmness through electronic signal and whatever i type in are coded in a blogger-specific platform, then 'published' by stroke of an enter key. an enter key! think about that! whoa, by pressing a simple button, all the sudden you are inviting/letting whoever peeks into the door to walk right in to the middle of a personal jumbled thoughts. one has it easier than alice now- we dont even have to make an executive decision to eat nor drink. just a click on an index finger, and voila, thoughts, once private and plastic as external concrete expression. and these word...